Hollow
by The Itch
Summary: There is one task left before he can become captain. Kill his parents murder, his prophesied enemy. Kill the Hollow known as Voldemort.
1. Part One

Bleach/Harry Potter fusion crossover thing. Minor allusion to _For Your Dream_. Mention of things learned during the current arc-- which starts around chapter 180. If your knowledge of Bleach is limited to the commerial english release, you're likely to not understand a few things.

Bleach is the creative property of Kubo Tite. Harry Potter is the creative proper of JK Rowling. This fusion would never occur in either of their actual works, so it's obvious that this is a work of _fan fiction_.

* * *

**Hollow - Part One  
**The Itch

* * *

The day had begun as any normal Saturday in the normal home of the normal Dursley family. Everyone was up and active by seven thirty am, breakfast was on the table my seven-forty, and they were happily deciding where they were going to go for their young heir's fifth birthday over the morning meal.

Heir is perhaps too strong of a word. The Dursley family had a slightly above average comfort-level, but Petunia and Vernon Dursley could care less. To them, young Dudley Dursley was as proud an heir as any royal child. For him, they would do anything-- even go so far as to import the latest and greatest innovations from Japan.

The reason a comfortably middle class family had such an ability was in the Dursley family's one, single, little abnormality. Their four year old nephew, Harry James Potter.

Though they disliked the boy, and would have gladly kicked him to the curb, they were getting a substantial stipend to care for him. Not that Harry saw any of the money. Oh no, that young boy wore Dudley's old cast offs, and received his cousin's broken toys as presents.

Harry Potter did not care for material things, and did not understand his family. That was okay; as long as he left them alone, they'd leave him alone. It was a lesson learned quickly after he was able to walk and talk.

Today was Dudley's birthday. Petunia was worrying her lip, fretting over what was to come-- Harry and Dudley were still too young to be separated in the public eye, still too young for Harry to be left with the babysitter while they pampered their son. It looked like little Harry James would have to come with them.

Which was, of course, the root of the problem. Anywhere that they went would have to be special for Dudley, but not for Harry. She did not want to suffer through the little rat begging to go back.

So where to go?

"It's either the park or the zoo," Vernon grumbled into his morning brew, "Not much more choice than that."

"But Dudley's been to the zoo three times this summer already," Petunia whined, "I want to show him something new."

"Maybe next year," he placated, "We'll be able to leave the boy here, then."

Petunia sighed. This was an argument that played out every year. She couldn't win it, and she knew it, "Oh, alright..."

There was just one little flaw in their son's birthday plans.

In another time, another reality, they would have taken Dudley to the park. The result of this action would come a couple years later, when the Dursley home was torn asunder, and a terrified little boy would become a ninja. Only here, now, they decided to take Dudley to the Zoo. Disaster came upon them much sooner, but with a lower death toll over all.

It happened as they were crossing the parking lot, headed for the Zoo's entrance. Little Harry's eyes had widened with fright and he froze right on the spot. The air felt heavy and dark to him, but the Dursleys couldn't feel it.

They did nothing that he had stopped, however, and Vernon growled low in his throat. The large man stomped back to his nephew, intent on taking him over his knee for disobedience.

He never got that far.

Petunia screamed as her husband hit the ground, eyes wide and unseeing. Little Harry was outright shaking now, head tilted back and seeing something that only he could see.

It was a monster. Massive and radiating evil, a white mask hiding it's face, a large hole through it's chest.

"Ehehehehehehe!" despite it's high pitched giggle, the beast's voice was low and raspy, "You can see me, little boy? How... unusual. But... your spiritual energy is so high... You should taste _wonderful_!"

It lunged, and Harry screamed, scrambling desperately out of the way, heart thudding. This thing wanted to _eat_ him!

"You're fast, boy," the beast smiled a death's head grin, and this time when it moved, Harry had almost no warning. He dodged, but it wasn't enough, as his soul was shorn from his body, connected only by his chain of fate.

Now little more than a ghost, Harry was confused to see a second chain leading from his head off into the distance. Though more pressing than figuring out if he had two bodies laying around, was the fact that he could barely move, and the beast stood over him, gloating about it's good luck, "Oh-ho, you dodged again! But not enough. You're mine!"

Mouth wide, the beast threw himself forwards again, intending to swallow Harry's soul in one bite. Potter squeezed his eyes shut, praying for a miracle, praying for something _anything_ to come save him.

_-- hear me! Hear me and call my name! I am--_

"_Hyourinmaru!_" Harry screamed, chain of fate shattering and leaving his soul unconnected. He leapt backwards, leapt away from the beast.

"What the...?" it's eyes narrowed, "Shinigami!"

He was dressed in funny black robes, a sword held in his loose grip. He felt... powerful. Energetic. Like he was atop the world.

But he didn't have time to ponder, because the beast was coming for him again.

_Let me fight for you!_

He let himself go loose, his body moving on automatic. Small and swift, the young Potter dodged the beast's attack, and subsequence attempts, his sword slicing the air and removing limbs. The piercing shriek it let loose froze him for a moment, a moment that would cost him dearly, when considered later on. His sword faltered and the beast attacked again.

Harry hit the ground with nary a sound. He had dodged the worst of the attack, but chunks of flesh with clumps of tangled dark hair decorated the beast's one remaining "hand". Harry had been, for all intents and purposes, scalped. It would seem that his 'life' had come to an end, staring up at the beast, eyes glazed over.

Before the beast could finish him off, however, someone else decided to get involved. He did so by leaping over the beast from behind, and swinging a weapon that had separated into three pieces. The strange spear sliced through the Beast's white mask, causing it to scream, and then... disintegrate?

"Well shit, kid," the bald man in a matching black robe crouched before him, "What's an academy brat like you doing on Earth?" When he didn't receive any response, he frowned and swept the kid up into his arms.

"Betcha just wanted to kick some Hollow ass, huh? Heh, let's get you back to Soul Society so the fourth division can take a look at those bumps of yours, hey?"

Harry blinked uncomprehendingly at him through a veil of blood, before point shakily at his body. The man didn't even look.

"Sometimes you just can't save 'em, no matter how hard you try. Heh, you're a tough one, though. I'll see if I can recommend you for the eleventh division when you graduate. How's that for ya? Can't say Madarame Ikkaku doesn't do good deeds."

It would be the last time Harry Potter saw his mortal body, peering blurrily over Madarame's shoulder before passing out. Within a few weeks, Vernon Dursley would be laid to rest, and Harry Potter's body cremated. His ashes were spread to the winds in the hope that there was now ay to connect him to the surviving Dursleys.

To say there was confusion when Madarame brought an unknown, untrained young Shinigami to the Academy after Unohana Retsu had fixed him up was an understatement. It took weeks to straighten said mess out, and eventually the "true" story coming out.

Not that it was right by any stretch of the imagination, but if that was what they wanted to believe, than so be it.

The story was that young Hitsugaya Toushiro-- Ikkaku had decided that "Harry" was a pussy name and he needed something better-- had 'discovered' his Zanpakutou by accident. He had intended to join the Academy to become a full fledged Shinigami, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

He'd gone to Earth to see a Hollow, but wound up almost killed by the one he'd chosen. He had been brought back than enrolled.

The only one who knew the whole truth was the first division leader, Yamamoto Genryuusai. With Harry's mortal body destroyed by the time they had straightened everything out, he had encouraged the child to go with the story and claim it to be true.

The only problem was that it basically claimed "Hitsugaya" as a prodigy. Which meant that he would _have_ to keep "ahead of the game". It meant long hours of studying, training and focusing on being a shinigami.

He was younger than most applicants.

He was one of the youngest graduates.

Within a year of graduation, he was the youngest Vice-Captain-- The eleventh division Vice-Captain, Kusajishi Yachiru, while physically younger, was also several centuries old.

Now, several years after that fateful birthday, Hitsugaya found himself up for promotion to Captain. Yamamoto had requested his presence, and the pale haired shinigami had no intention of failing to show.

His hair was something of a frustration. Many of the other shinigami blamed his hair on the stress he'd put himself through during his academy days, while others would laugh and say 'genetics', ignoring Hitsugaya's insistence that it had once been black.

Whatever the reason, he didn't know if he'd _ever_ get used to it.

"There is much to discuss," Yamamoto began, even as Hitsugaya opened the door, "You have put in for the promotion, of course?"

Hitsugaya nodded. To do anything less would not have been in character for the young prodigy, whether or not it was what he wanted to do.

"Before you can be considered for the position, there is a task that you, and _only_ you, may accomplish."

"Sir?"

Yamamoto folded his hands, "When you manifested Hyourinmaru, and broke your chain of fate, you also broke the bond between yourself and the wondering soul of Tom Riddle."

Hitsugaya frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Simply enough, Riddle bound his soul to your body to prevent himself from being sent to Hell or becoming a Hollow. When you became a Shinigami, it destroyed the bond keeping him from effecting the material world. When you body was destroyed, it opened him to becoming a Hollow, despite the bonds he carried with various inanimate objects."

"He did, I take it?"

"Yes, but that is not our only concern," the highest ranking captain gave the boy a hard look.

"Wizards are trying to resurrect him."

"Wizards...? Why would they do that?" to shinigami, and to Soul Society, the only thing worse than a Quincy was a Wizard. Which was unfortunate, as the Quincy were dead, and the Wizards were greater in number than the hunters had ever been.

The problem with Wizards was that they acted without thinking of the consequences. Their magic was powerful, constantly effecting the world around them, warping and twisting it. Such as Riddle's foolish attempt to give himself immortality by binding his soul to inanimate objects. With out an organic, living link to the world, it was easy for any such fool to fall to Hollows, and to become one itself.

The most dangerous Hollows tended to have once been Wizards. Wizards like Grendlewald, who had become Grand Fisher, and had yet to be caught.

"Riddle was a powerful, dark Wizard. An apprentice of Grendlewald's, I believe. His followers wish to resurrect him. Consider a Hollow in gigai..."

In a temporary body? Not one of the things he really wanted to hear or even think about. A gigai would amplify spiritual healing in the mortal world, and occasionally even amplify a shinigami's power. If a Hollow was in gigai, it might create a...

"Arrankar..."

"You see our dilemma," Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, "As it is in part your fault, Hitsugaya-fukutaichou, you are being sent to deal with it. The Hollow calls itself 'Voldemort', and must be taken care of before you can be commissioned Captain."

"I understand. I will head to earth immediately."

"Oh, and Toushiro?"

"Sir?"

"You will need to be in gigai to gather any information from the Wizards. Their warding spells will stop astral projection, and have been known to have a... negative impact on Shinigami."

"Understood," Hitsugaya bowed, taking his leave of the First Division Captain. He would retrieve a gigai in the closest earth-side store to inhabit. Taking an older form may be helpful, but a child's form would give him the immunity of a child's curiosity.

And he'd try to get one with black hair.

* * *

End Chapter 

This story is only three parts long and is completely finished. It was finished back in November, but I've been sitting on my ass not writing anything ((except for papers for classes, which I really should have been doing instead of typing this up)), so it's no surprise that it's taken five months to get it up and out.


	2. Part Two

**Hollow - Part Two**  
The Itch

* * *

He'd been in gigai for two weeks now, and was starting to get irritated. There was no sign of Hollow activity _anywhere_ in London. It seemed, to him, as though there was a distinct lack of spiritual activity in the city at all. The air felt... light. No souls, no spirits, no Hollows filling the city with their presence.

The wizards, it seemed, did not only police themselves and their half-rate magic while in the presence of mortals, but also anything that could even be remotely considered "out of the ordinary." Hitsugaya had already been forced to evade wizarding forces several times, for doing what the shinigami were meant to do. This, of course, only added to his irritation.

With a distinct lack of Voldemort or Voldemort-related activities to investigate, Toushiro had come to the conclusion that there was only one thing that he could do. He would have to find a place that had, without doubt, been occupied by Voldemort's soul either before or after he had become a Hollow. He would be able to get a good feel for the Hollow's specific aura, enough that he would at least be able to recognize it on sight.

Which was how he came to be standing on the doorstep of Number Four, Privet Drive in Surrey. He was dressed in his best 'normal' clothing, his black hair swept back and out of his face in it's usual disregard for gravity. He was trying not to wiggle his toes-- western footwear felt so strange after so many years.

"Yes?" a blonde haired woman had opened the door, ad Hitsugaya found himself looking up at his aunt for the first time in six years.

"Hello," he had rehearsed what he intended to say, having never forgotten her treatment of all things 'weird', no matter how hard he had tried to purge the memory, "I am H... Toushiro Hitsugaya--"

"Are you lost?" Petunia wondered, cutting him off. She quailed under the flat stare the eleven year old Shinigami gave her.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt. As I was saying, my name is Toushiro Hitsugaya. I am a member of an underground society dedicated to the... removal... of certain _unnatural_ dangers." Every word, every pause, every emphasis had been on purpose. Specifically calculated to draw his aunt in, "Out group has recently become aware of an increase of such activities in this neighborhood, and your residence in particular."

Petunia had gone absolutely white, quickly ushering the young boy into her home, wringing her hands, "Is there anything I can do to... to help?"

"Sit back and relax," he pulled a pair of simple sunglasses out of his pocket, "These are the latest in military issue HUD glasses. They should be able to analyze the objects in your home to see if someone on... their side placed an unnatural object in your home for whatever reason."

In reality, they were a simple pair of glasses he'd taken from his host in London, borrowing for the sake of this little play. With his eyes covered, she wouldn't notice that he was more focused on the spiritual side of things than the physical one.

She was still pale faced as she waved her hand slightly, "Please, look. If you find anything, destroy it."

"That was the plan, ma'am."

"My name is Petunia... Petunia Evans."

"A pleasure," he smiled tightly, still scanning the room inch by inch. If any part of Voldemort had ever been in this home, he'd find it. He worked in silence, feeling Petunia's heavy gaze on his back a full fifteen minutes before she spoke again.

"How did a boy your age get involved in this sort of thing?"

"It was an accident," Hitsugaya didn't turn around, "A few years ago, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. If I hadn't been lucky, I would have died along with my family."

"You poor dear," Petunia cooed, eyes distant, "Those... those unnatural _freaks_ brainwashed my sister, then got her killed. If I had known of your organization at the time...!"

"It wouldn't have done you any good," Hitsugaya's voice was soft, considering. How many reborn Shinigami had been mistake for wizards? Had their destinies stripped away by that "special" community, "It's not a simple task to become an agent of Soul Society."

There! The cupboard under the stairs, where he'd been moved to, shortly before his body's destruction. The negative energy of a Hollows' transformation almost caked the tiny "room". Yamamoto had certainly not been joking when he had said that Voldemort had been unable to change for too long.

"Soul Society?" Petunia was curious about the unusual name.

Hitsugaya flashed her a smirk over his shoulder. He felt no need to lie to her about this-- especially not when he now had a fairly accurate read of what Voldemort's energy was like. It would be easy enough to find the Hollow, now that he knew what he was looking for, "Heaven, is what I believe you westerners call it."

"Then you are...!"

Hitsugaya tipped his head slightly, "I am but a man doing my Lord's bidding."

* * *

Having Voldemort's "signature" made it _much_ easier to track the bastard. Though it had been more luck, than skill, that had located the Hollow. Whether it was good luck or bad luck really depended on how you viewed the situation.

For example, Hitsugaya was sure it was good luck when he stumbled across the man coming out of the pub. His reiatsu had the peculiar doubling and warping of a possession, as well as the oppressive feeling of 'Hollow'. That Voldemort's aura signature _caked_ the man with his presence, was only a bonus for the young Vice-Captain.

Hitsugaya had been feeling the urge that all eleventh division-- and former eleventh division-- soldiers felt from time to time. The all encompassing need to bash someone's skull in to relieve his frustrations.

He promptly launched a kidou attack on the man, ignoring the fact that he was currently in gigai. The moment his luck turned from good to bad was pretty much the second after the demon magic had hit it's target. The spell was a paralysis spell, intended to freeze a Hollow in place long enough that a lower level shinigami would have no problems destroying the mask. Though Toushiro did not need to use it, he was also wary of the forces of the Wizarding World, and wished to finish this as quickly as possible.

The problem that the target wasn't a single being. It was _two_ in _one_ body. And the spell only caught the soul in charge-- the mortal soul.

The Hollow rose on shaking legs, unused to a human form, and Hitsugaya pulled the dagger tucked into the waistband of his pants free. This would be harder to do than expected, and he cursed himself for a fool. He was a Vice-Captain! He should know better than to expect an easy battle, especially against a wizard-born Hollow.

The movement rate of a human body was thrown out the window-- a gigai was not a true body, and therefore lacked certain limitations and functions, while Voldemort ignored the constraints of his human host's body. Fists and feet flew at phenomenal speeds, and though Hitsugaya's dagger a pale imitation of his Zanpakutou, he had enough skill with the blade to inflict wounds on Voldemort's host. Still, he was far more used to the weight and heft of his Soul Slayer, the lighter, smaller blade throwing off his movements and reactions.

The close quarters of the battle was also causing him damage; he was far to used to a sword in his hands, and it was costing him. Voldemort used the host body as a Hollow would normally use his own, forgoing wand and weapon, curled fingers clawing at Hitsugaya's face and clothing. The sheer force of Voldemort's blows was enough to rake bloody gouges in his skin.

Hitsugaya bent over backwards, dodging Voldemort's wide swipe, twisting as he did so. His hands hit the ground, and he kicked out, intending to knock Voldemort off of his feet. The Hollow jumped the first leg, but the second one, raised higher, caught one foot, and changed his momentum. The Hollow managed to twist his body around, landing on all fours, before dropping and rolling out of the way of Hitsugaya's next thrust.

This time, when the Hollow attacked, he chose to go with the method he'd learned during his living years. Voldemort brandished his host's wand, ducking beneath Toushiro's punch, twisting away from his kick, and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

The flash of emerald light slammed full force into Toushiro, and the Shinigami was knocked from his gigai. There was no time to snatch it back up again, instead the Vice-Captain threw himself at the Hollow again, this time wielding Hyourinmaru.

Voldemort cursed at his misfortune; he hadn't realized his opponent was anything more than a mortal hunter, and now it turns out he was facing a Shinigami? He wasn't prepared for this; his plans needed to be fully in motion before he tangled with the idiots from Soul Society. As he was, his host body would only hinder him, and he had no doubt that this Shinigami would take out the human in order to get to him.

The upper echelons of Soul Society were known to be ruthless in the execution of their enemies, and this _child_ had already reached Vice-Captain?

Luck was with Voldemort, however, as the sound of apparation caused the Shinigami to hesitate, glancing at his gigai. The boy was still just that, a child, and Voldemort took his moment of distraction to mutter his password and the lapel-pin portkey activated. It was Hitsugaya's turn to curse, and he dove for his gigai, reanimating it only seconds before the Wizarding police force arrived on the scene.

Worn out from being forcefully ejected from his gigai, and tired from long weeks of searching, Hitsugaya retreated to a rooftop a few buildings away. He was curious as to what the authorities would do in response to the battle, and what he saw only made him sick. One of the Aurors had held up an oddly shaped device, and Toushiro could _feel_ the ambient spiritual energy of the area being sucked away. These wizards obviously did not understand what they were doing, not only erasing the evidence of the battle, but erasing the spiritual history of the area in only an instant.

It was abhorrent.

With a low growl, the Shinigami tucked his dagger back into his pants and made his way across the rooftops to the near-by supply shop. He'd been staying with the local earth-bound shinigami that ran it, as it was easier than trying to secure his own, temporary shelter.

"Charles? I'm back!" the young vice-captain called, moving through the store and into the living area. The large shinigami blinked a couple times, before holding out a weather beaten letter.

"This came fer ya, sir."

"Oh?" Hitsugaya noted the parchment's addressee with a raised eyebrow.

Toushiro Hitsugaya nee Harry Potter  
Guest room, Odds and Ends Spirituality  
London, England

The envelope stank with magic of various kinds, though Toushiro was reasonably sure that the name written on it had been written with magic, once it had arrived. This meant that it was likely that no one was actually aware that Hitsugaya was Potter.

It seemed odd that the Wizarding World wouldn't know about his death. Though, if they had been tracking his soul itself, then it was possible that without konso they had not actually "registered" the death. As such, they may never have even noticed that his mortal body had been destroyed.

Still, he didn't really care much for the Wizarding World and he tossed the letter back to Charles, "You can use it for kindling. It doesn't mean anything to me."

"If you say so," Charles shrugged, "You going to hunt tonight?"

Toushiro raised an eyebrow, "Isn't London _your_ duty?"

"Ah, but you seemed to content to do it yourself, _Fukutaichou_! This unworthy one would not wish to intrude, Hitsugaya-sama."

The shinigami rolled his eyes, "No. You it yourself tonight. Wouldn't want your Zanpakutou to rust, would you?"

The large shinigami laughed, slapping the arm of his chair before he rose. The night was still young, after all.

* * *

Apparently, ignoring all those letters was z _bad_ thin, considering the mess that Hitsugaya had currently found himself in. A grand total of three days had passed since he'd received the first one, and now he found himself hip-deep in letters. They were all from the same place, and all demanding a response.

Funny, he had thought that by _not_ responding they'd get the message that-- dammit-- he didn't want anything to do with them.

No, apparently that was something that was too mundane for the damned magical masses as Hitsugaya learned. The fact that it was the mortal version of Jidanbou bashing down Charles' door in the middle of the night just made him irritable. Especially since Charles wasn't currently home and the young vice-captain was certain he'd get blamed for the destruction.

His sleep disrupted, Hitsugaya stomped down the stairs, for once wishing for the white hair of his soul-form. Hinamori, on more than one occasion, had expressed the opinion that he was quite frightening wearing his grumpy-face with his hair hanging limply in his eyes. Somehow, he didn't think that the look had the same effect with black hair, considering that the miniature, hairy Jidanbou was going on about how long it had been since he'd last seen "Harry."

Hitsugaya's eyebrow twitched, "Shut up."

The man didn't stop, now going on about how worried they were when he vanished after Vernon's death. Hitsugaya grit his teeth. Being Captain had _better_ be worth this crap.

"_Shut up_," Hitsugaya repeated, louder this time, and the man apparently finally noticing the boy's agitation, "Unless you have a damn good reason for _knocking Charles' door down_, at _midnight_, then I suggest you _get lost_. _Some_ people like to _sleep_ at certain hours of the night. Like midnight."

"I was jus'... y'weren't answerin' yer letters... I bring cake?" the man faltered under Toushiro's death glare. Sleep was a commodity that the Shinigami thought precious and he _hated_ it when his slumber was disturbed. "Not good enough," Hitsugaya hissed, "Get out. Now." He was not afraid to use kidou on fool.

"But Harry, I jus'--"

"Out!" Hitsugaya barked, and proceeded to do as he had mentally threatened. It was only a minor spell, designed to get the caster some breathing room. Still, it knocked the gate-guardian wannabe out of the shop, and Hitsugaya smiled tightly, "If you wish to talk, return at a normal hour. One that's between _noon_ and seven in the evening. Oyasumi nasai."

Turning, he stomped back into the store, muttering sourly to himself. It wasn't fair that he had to have his sleep disturbed by an idiot.

* * *

End part.

Chapter note: Charles _is_ English. He uses "Hitsugaya-sama" and "fukutaichou" mockingly. Just incase I wasn't quite able to convey that.

This part was originally about a page longer, but I decided to place that into the third part, since it fits better.


	3. Part Three

Warning, the following contains _specific_ spoilers for a certain couple of chapters following the Soul Society arc.

* * *

**Hollow - Part Three**  
The Itch

* * *

The following day, one Rubeus Hagrid did, in fact, return. Much to Toushiro's annoyance, Hagrid had decided to arrive exactly at noon, instead of taking the implied proper time of seven pm. Being in the mortal world was something of a vacation for Toushiro, given that his only directive was to locate and eliminate Voldemort, and therefore did not have to deal with anything really important. 

To this end, he believed he had a god given right to sleep in. Preferably until the dinner hour, before he was off to skulk around the more likely areas where a wizard-- or a hollow who'd once been a wizard-- could be found. Obviously, this was another one of those things that slipped right past Hagrid and his ilk.

His irritation, however, was obvious enough that Hagrid segued into talking of his parents within five minutes of their conversation starting, "Yer not much like 'em, Harry. You've not got James' fire or Lily's heart. Tha's not t'say that there's anything wrong wit ya, o'course!"

"It shouldn't be surprising," Hitsugaya spoke dismissively, "I wasn't raised by them, after all."

"That's one o'tha things I've been meaning ter ask ya. Where've y'been? Yer supposed t'have been with yer aunt and uncle."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, "My uncle is dead, and has been for some years now."

The half-giant's mouth fell open, "Wha...?"

"It's something of a curse, I think. Uncle Vernon keeled over in a parking lot, my parents were killed in a car crash. Bad luck all around."

"Vernon's dea... car crash? Who the bleeding 'ell told y'yer parents died in a _car crash_?"

It was terribly amusing to see the man go red with rage. Toushiro knew very well that his parents hadn't died in a car crash; it was their killer, after all, that he'd been sent to eliminate. However, it was better not to tip his hand at the moment. Who knew what the wizards would do with a god of death in their midst? Some of the things he knew of that occurred in the twelfth division had a tendency to be drawn from some of the mortals' crazy ideas.

And wizards were crazier than the rest of them.

"My aunt and uncle, of course," Toushiro blinked lazily at the man, "Are you saying that they _lied_ to me?"

"That great bloody prune...!" Hagrid growled, "Figures that he'd be dead and past the point where he could get 'is just desserts. Oh! Tha' reminds me, I've got that cake I meant ter give you last night," and the half-giant began fishing around in his jacket, "It might be a little squished..."

"That really doesn't answer my question," Hitsugaya frowned, "How did my parents die, if not in a car crash?"

"Lily and James, well," Hagrid put the very flat cake box on the table, and Toushiro wondered if he actually expected him to eat that... thing, "They were killed."

"Killed? You're telling me my parents were _murdered_," it was surprising how much fun acting was, went it wasn't devoted entirely to making everyone in the afterlife believe him to be a prodigy, "Why would my aunt and uncle lie to me?"

"They never did much like magic, Harry. I bet they didn't tell yeh about that, either?"

"Magic?" It was strange to hear 'Harry' after so many years being 'Hitsugaya Toushiro'.

"Yer a wizard, Harry."

"A wizard?" Perplextion wasn't something he'd been allowed to visibly show for so very long, and now that he could-- and given the circumstances, probably should-- show some, all he could muster up was a sense of curiosity. Was this how they always went about telling little witches and wizards about their powers? Outright and blatantly?

You would think more than a few would assume it to be a joke and turn away whomever was stupid enough to try it.

"Aye, a wizard," Hagrid nodded solidly, smiling beneath his bushy mane of facial hair, "Son of a fine young wizard, and a beautiful young witch. They were some of the best out there."

"So, how did they die, then?" there was a possibility that this man knew more than he did, and Hitsugaya Toushiro was not one to let an opportunity pass him by. Especially when captain hood was on the line.

Rubeus spent a great deal of time humming and hawing about what he was going to tell the young boy. Hitsugaya found himself getting more and more irritable as the conversation went on. Hagrid finally managed to get it out that "You-Know-Who" had killed his parents, and when Toushiro had informed him that no, he didn't know who, Hagrid had stuttered over the name of the 'dark lord'.

Hagrid's information on the man, scattered and incomplete as it was, certainly hinted that the wizards knew quite a bit about his enemy. Hagrid certainly had a lot to say about the quality of Hogwart's library, and what they taught there. While he had little use for the mundane information, the possibility of locating something to aid him in located Voldemort was enough to get him to consent to enrollment. So off he went, finding himself raced through Diagon Alley to get his school things--

I _am going to be in Slytherin." _

_"As you do the exact same thing in all the houses, what does it matter?"_

-- then onto the train, headed to the castle--

_"Are you _really _Harry Potter?" _

_"No. My name is Toushiro Hitsugaya. I just _look _like Potter."_

--and into the castle itself. Medieval western architecture wasn't something he was used to, and he'd found it fascinating. It had captured his attention quite readily, that first night, and many more afterwards.

The sorting had certainly been amusing. Hitsugaya Toushiro had been called alphabetically, so when they got down to Potter, Harry, there was no one to come and be sorted. The school's headmaster had then requested a meeting with him, and Toushiro had complied. He refused to comply with Albus Dumbledore's asinine notion that he allow himself to be called "Harry Potter", however. Not only was that not the name he'd grown up with, but he preferred the anonymity. It was necessary for him in order to research and locate Voldemort without having to worry about some well meaning person to try and 'protect' him from his target.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had come with a nasty surprise-- Professor Quirrel had not been at the table during the sorting and so Hitsugaya hadn't expected to find out that the professor was Voldemort's host. To the confusion of the rest of the student body, the jittery, stuttering professor and the easily irritable eleven year old spent a great deal of time glaring at one another.

The year was, for the most part, uneventful. Hitsugaya and a Gryffindor girl, one Hermione Granger, completed for top marks in many subjects. Without needing to be the "prodigy" shinigami, Hitsugaya had no problems with letting her take first place, though his pride refused to allow him to fall past second.

At Halloween, Quirrel had managed to scare the school, bolting into the Great Hall screeching about a troll before he collapsed in apparent fright. Like every other student, he'd been herded back into his house dorm, but unlike them he'd had no intention of remaining there. He'd simply slipped free of his gigai and gone hunting.

He'd also performed konso for a number of ghosts that night. Apparently, they'd been trapped by Hogwarts' magic, unable to move on or even to become Hollows. It was a tortuous existence after a few centuries, and Toushiro was only all too happy to do his duty and send them off.

Though it was against Soul Society law to remove a spirit from it's body before it could die in the mortal world, Hitsugaya was more concerned with the fact that his rival had been trapped in the bathroom with the troll. She'd been crumpled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding from a shattered jaw, and Toushiro had no intention of letting his other duty down. A troll might not be a Hollow, but it was still a monster and still inhuman.

Shortly after he'd dispatched the troll's soul, a variety of professors arrived in the door of the bathroom, and he'd returned to his gigai. None of his dormmates had noticed that his gigai had technically been dead, for which he was rather glad for. Even if he did think it was pathetic that they hadn't.

Granger had been in the hospital wing for about a week, but when she returned things continued on as they had earlier in the year. He'd been absolutely fruitless in getting Voldemort alone, the professor taking great pains to always be in the presence of other teachers. Toushiro had roamed the halls many a time while he was supposed to be sleeping, but wherever Quirrel slept, it was so well hidden that he couldn't even track Voldemort's reiatsu.

When Yule finally came about, Hitsugaya was hard pressed to find an appropriate adjective for it. Charles had sent him various "helpful" instruments, all off which were designed to help him either track down wayward Hollows or to make him more _approachable_ to the female gender. There had been quite a few fights with other Ravenclaws when he refused to let them near certain shinigami items for study. There had been more when the older Ravenclaws wanted at the other things Charles had sent him.

It had died down, soon enough. Hitsugaya gave the less suspect items to the seventh years, and made sure to hide the rest. He frequently found himself exasperated with his classmates, and held tightly to the belief that anything was worth it to be a captain class Shinigami. The problem was simple-- they were children, and therefore they acted like children.

Hitsugaya, on the other hand, was a vice-captain, and had to act like one. It would certainly not do to have a lazy vice-captain; it would have been an embarrassment to his division.

So when the end of the year came about, Hitsugaya was glad. He was happier still to receive a message from the elusive Voldemort/Quirrel duo.

_Vice Captain,  
Third floor corridor.  
If you can get through, we'll settle the score. Don't disappoint me._

* * *

Had he been mortal at the time, then it may have been difficult to make his way through the obstacle course that comprised the professors' attempt to hide... well, Hitsugaya didn't quite know what it was they were trying to hide. It honestly had been none of his concern, as there did not appear to be any involvement from Voldemort. Apparently, he had been incorrect. Whatever it was that the staff had decided was important enough to warrant lethal traps seemed to be something of interest to the Hollow. 

That would teach him not to dismiss odd coincidences; he would keep his eyes open from now on.

Still, it had to be something important or powerful. Perhaps even both; Toushiro did not know, and he certainly did not have the time to research it. As it was he had "gone to sleep", leaving the unmoving, unbreathing gigai in his dorm bed. He knew that no one would notice during the night, however should he die in this endeavor they would most definitely find the "dead" student.

That would make extracting and destroying the gigai all that much harder. Soul Society would not be pleased.

In any case, the young death god took the shortest route possible-- he passed through the walls. Apparently, Dumbledore's preparations had not been made with the dead in mind, despite the number of ghosts that haunted the castle. A good thing; Hitsugaya would have _hated_ being forced to go the mortal way, when the end to this whole thing was so damn near.

"Shinigami," Quirrel, for once, did not stutter as he spoke. Hitsugaya's fingers tightened briefly on Hyourinmaru's hilt.

"Hollow," the vice-captain tipped his head, never allowing his eyes to waver from the possessed instructor.

"Do you know why my master and I chose this place?" the man appeared to be in full control of his facilities, and that made Hitsugaya sick. Willful possession was far worse than forced; the only way to remove the possessing spirit was to destroy the host. That a man would allow a Hollow to occupy his soul...!

"No. Nor do I particularly care," Toushiro smiled tightly, "I am here for one reason, and one reason alone."

Voldemort's raspy chuckle was muffled, "An innocent vice-captain. This _is_ amusing."

Hitsugaya blinked. Innocent...?

"You would throw yourself to the dogs, without learning first what the dogs want," while the Hollow laughed, Quirrel motioned to the mirror standing just off to the side, "Hidden in that bit of glass and silver is a most precious object. It can prolong life eternally, it can revive the dead, little Potter. Surprised?" Quirrel laughed as Toushiro's eyes widened, "Don't be. Professor Dumbledore told the staff exactly who you were. All it took was a little research."

Hitsugaya snorted, closing his eyes and shaking his head, "As I used Hogwarts to research you, so you researched me."

"Indeed," Voldemort interjected, "Consider, boy, having your own body again. No more temporary shells, but your own flesh and blood. No more battle, no more expectations, young Vice-Captain. Retrieve the Philosopher's Stone from the mirror... pledge yourself to me... and I will see to it that the mortals worship us as _gods_."

Hitsugaya hesitated. His body? The one his aunt had burnt to ashes almost seven years ago? He could have it back... no longer suffer the pressures that had plagued him from the moment Madarame had brought him before Yamamoto.

His gaze flickered to the mirror for a second. A second, however, was all that it took, and Hitsugaya found himself entranced. The reflection showed him as he was-- dressed in the dark robes of the shinigami, Zanpakutou resting easily in one hand. His silvery white hair was swept back as always, his green eyes bright.

There were differences, ones that Toushiro didn't really notice at first. Then a breeze ruffled the mirror-Toushiro's robes, and his eyes were drawn to the white cloak he wore.

"Taichou..." Hitsugaya whispered, fingers reaching out to brush the glass. Hitsugaya-taichou mimicked the action, shifting his grip on Hyourinmaru. _Bankai_ Hyourinmaru.

He glanced down at the blade in his hand, breaking the mirror's spell. Hyourinmaru was still only in her second form. He had not raised her to the third form since he had shown the division captains that he was capable of that. That he was worthy of the dream of becoming one of them.

He firmed his grip on Hyourinmaru's grip for a second, and in the following instant, so many things fell into place. Hitsugaya-taichou's grip shifted, and he swung Hyourinmaru without thought. The blade struck the mirror-- it cut _through_ the mirror-- shattering it into so many tiny little fragments.

"What have you _done_!" Voldemort shrieked through Quirrel. The shinigami spun to face him, blade out.

"Realized my dream," Toushiro smirked at the Hollow-possessed one, "This battle is the last obstacle between me and division Captain. I will not give that up, even for the return of my mortal form. To have what the mirror showed... _I will kill you._"

"You can _try!_" the Hollow shrieked again, flinging his host's body forwards. The Hollow had taken full control now, no longer allowing the professor even enough freedom to speak.

Toushiro danced around the wild lunge, Hyourinmaru tearing through Quirrel's body. The man gurgled as he fell in two, but it was Voldemort's bellow of fury that had the shinigami leaping backwards.

Back-to-Back, Voldemort emerged from his host's dying body. He appeared as though he were 'bubbling' out, assuming his natural state-- something almost four times Hitsugaya's height and width. Intending to take him out before he was fully reformed, the Captain whirled into action, blade sheering through the beast's arm as it lurched to one side with surprising speed.

He didn't even spend any time to marvel at his opponent's speed. That could be done once the battle was over. Instead, he twisted around, following the Hollow's movements. Voldemort, now lacking one arm, snarled and leapt to meet him, his single clawed hand glowing with eldritch power.

Lightning crackled as Voldemort caught Hyourinmaru's strike, and Hitsugaya gave a short scream was he was unexpectedly electrocuted, but he refused to let go of his zanpakutou. He would not give the Hollow the upper hand. He _refused_ to let the minus soul get the better of him, and gritting his teeth, he did the only thing he could think of to free the blade from his opponent's grasp.

He leapt up, planting both feet into the Hollow's gut and _yanked_.

The Hollow let out a gasp of air as he was kicked, reflexively letting go of the weapon, and sending Hitsugaya tumbling backwards. The shinigami quickly rebalanced and threw himself back at the recovering Hollow. They clashed for several minutes, blade versus claw, and neither gaining the upper hand, but both certainly gaining injuries.

Hitsugaya rolled out of the way of another blast of eldritch energy and found himself rolling through the glass shards. The material world was not necessarily one that could injure either himself or a normal Hollow. But Voldemort _wasn't_ a normal Hollow. He was one that still had enough of a connection to the living world to draw on the energies of his surroundings to use magic.

It was a chancy plan, one that had no basis in reality, but it was the first thing to come to mind. One of the curious things about being a shinigami was choosing which laws of physics applied to them. Hitsugaya snatched up a handful of glass and rejoined the fight. It was a few more minutes before he had enough of an opening.

He leapt into the air, one arm swinging Hyourinmaru, the other throwing the glass shards directly into the Hollow's face. His intended effect-- using the glass shards much like a street fighter might use dirt to blind an opponent-- didn't work. However, it was enough of a change of style that for a moment Voldemort was stunned. It was enough for the shinigami.

Hitsugaya completed the swing, blade sheering straight through Voldemort's mask. He shuddered, briefly, as the Gates to Hell swung open. It mattered not how many time that he witnessed the sight, it always disturbed him. He supposed it was because he believed, intrinsically, that all men were good and deserving of a second chance.

The Shinigami turned away, sheathing Hyourinmaru across his back and shoving his hands into his pockets. The mission was over. It had taken ten long and painful months, but it was over. Finally.

The year had been long and tiring, and he'd be _damned_ if he stuck around much longer. He was Captain in all but responsibilities-- ones that he _really_ needed to get back to, he mused. He had done the minimum required to maintain his vice-captain status over the past year. The highest ranked seats had been forced to pick up his slack, and he had a feeling that they would _not_ be pleased with him.

His first step would be the dorm-room. He needed to reacquire his gigai. Then a visit to Albus to inform the man that he was withdrawing from the school, and not to expect him to return the following year. He would refrain from the particulars as to _why_ he felt comfortable enough to imply that he found the school... dangerous.

Hitsugaya chuckled to himself-- Madarame would be horrified to learn that young Toushiro was backing down due to "danger".

As expected, the gigai had remained untouched on his bed, and it was easy enough to reintegrate himself. Easier still; was slipping past the unconscious forms of his dormmates, who were so deep into slumber that he figured a herd of elephants could pass them by. Or a herd of Hagrids-- the half-giant was certainly loud enough.

Getting in to Dumbledore's office was a bit more difficult; he wasn't quite sure what the password was. He assumed, from previous experience, that it was a sweet of some sort. after half an hour of listing every sweet he could think of-- muggle, magical and spiritual alike-- he finally hit upon it. "Green gummi frogs" was one of the oddest passwords he had ever heard of, but he wasn't going to start complaining now.

Albus was in his office, wearing a tiny smile. Toushiro scowled; the man apparently found the problem of getting in to be _very_ amusing.

Not in the mood to be polite, Hitsugaya cut the old man off as he opened his mouth, "I'm leaving."

Albus' smile vanished, "What?"

"I'm leaving," he repeated, slowly as though he were talking to a particularly _dense_ child, "Your school is exceedingly dangerous, and I feel no more urge to risk life and limb."

"Harry--"

"I have told you time and time again, Professor. Harry Potter is dead. He died alongside Vernon Dursley, and if you thought to look up the legal documents of the muggle world, you would have discovered this before you insisted on embarrassing yourself."

"My boy, if you are thinking of the troll, that was a once in a lifetime event."

To hell with his plan, "I was more concerned with the professor that, quite literally, attempted to tear my throat out," Hitsugaya smiled not-so-pleasantly, "I believe he is still in the room with that odd mirror."

"You looked into the Mirror Erised?" Albus looked surprised, then calculating, before the friendly grandfather reappeared, "I assume you saw your family?"

"Not at all," Hitsugaya ignored Albus' motion to continue, "I am only here to inform you that I am leaving Hogwarts, and not to expect my return."

Albus shook his head, a sad expression on his face, "I'm sorry, my boy, but the law states that once you have begun to learn the ways of magic, then you must _finish_ learning the ways of magic. Otherwise you will be a danger to yourself and others."

Hitsugaya nodded; it was a reasonable law, and likely the reason one's wand was snapped should one be expelled. However, he already understood his latent abilities, and how to use them to aid his duties. Learning the odd, extraneous things that wizards felt to be important would merely tax on reserves that he needed for said duties.

The problem was that Dumbledore would certainly not believe that. So, with a negligent shrug, he drew his wand from his sleeve, and proceeded to snap it.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The broken remnants fell onto Albus' desk, the old man having gone white at the first little crack of the wood, "I have duties to attend to. Duties that I have neglected for too long. I hope not to see you or any of your kind any time soon, Professor."

He stood and walked out, the man behind him staring down at a tattered feather and the splinters of wood.

* * *

Upon his return to Soul Society, Hitsugaya found himself buried under a pile of paperwork and long neglected responsibilities. Apparently, the third and fourth seats _hadn't_ picked up the slack, and thus he had to go through and over everything from the past year. It was a stressful couple of weeks as he caught up, but he wouldn't have had it any other way. This was what he loved to do; not even his extended stay on Earth could change that. 

Though it had certainly changed his opinions on other things. Like his hair. It lent him an air of dignity and authority that his mortal black hair just could not seem to give him.

Soon enough, he found himself standing with the other Captain hopefuls, awaiting assignment. Most would be returned to their standings as Vice-Captains, though his time around two would make Captain. It was unusual to have more than one at a time, but there had been a death and an abandonment in the ranks.

Isshin-senpai had abandoned his post five years earlier, and his successor had seen fit to do the same only a few months earlier. Another Captain had fallen to a pair of Hollows that had been working in tandem. He had killed one, but the other had gotten him in return.

Hitsugaya shook himself out of his thoughts, and listened for his name. His defeat of Voldemort had been the final condition to becoming Captain, so he _knew_ that he would get one of the posts. It was just a matter of which one.

"Hitsugaya Toushiro. Ichimaru Gin. Step forwards," they did as commanded, and Toushiro could feel the dark stares on his back, "You have been granted the rank of division Captain. Hitsugaya-taichou you are in command of division ten. Ichimaru-taichou you are in command of division three. Congratulations.

Hitsugaya smiled. It looked like life was looking up.

* * *

End Part Three  
End "Hollow" 

If you're wondering what Hermione is like/looks like following the events with the troll, go read For Your Dreams. She won't be a ninja in this universe, but the version of her that you're first introduced to would be the version of her that this one becomes.

You can consider Hollow and For Your Dream two sides of the same coin; as noted back in part one, if the Dursleys had chosen the option of going to the park, the world created would be that of For Your Dream. Since they went to the zoo, the world of Hollow was created.

Hollow is complete. I may to a one-off sequel, perhaps to deal with the remaining Marauders, and I may not.

**Next project:** work on Route Unknown ((located under the pen name "Priest Li Xiang")), a Kingdom Hearts AU set during the first game. Other current projects consist of the rewrite of False Identity and the continuation of For Your Dream. I may even do a second drabble in some of the universes present in Alternate Potterverse. Stay tooned!

**Remember! If you want a response, leave your email or get logged in. I love responding to my reviewers. I've turned anonymous reviewing back on.**


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